The Long Life of the Face of Boe
by SChavva24
Summary: We knew that the Face of Boe had a very complicated life. We haven't realized just how complicated it was.


**A.N: Hey guys! So I finally showed my face again on fanfiction. Decided to try out another universe. Lately, I've been hooked on BBC shows like Torchwood, Doctor Who and Sherlock Holmes. They are absolutely amazing and now I worship the ground of Steven Moffat. He is truly a genius. Anywho, here's my newest one-shot. Here's a challenge, try to guess who it's about! I bet I made it very obvious, but anywho! Here it is. Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't live in Britain and am not rich. I am not a certified genius, I haven't money to fill a swimming pool and I don't have a British accent. So obvoisly, I am not Russel T. Davies, Steven Moffat, J.K. Rowling, or Richard Stokes. I do not own Harry Potter, Doctor Who or Torchwood. The pity. Please excuse me while I go cry in a corner. While I do, here's my story.**

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><p><em>The Long Life of the Face Of Boe<em>

_By SChavva24_

That wasn't the first time he died. But, it was the first time by a Dalek.

There was the time when he was one, and a certain someone was keen on murdering him. Then the time when he was eleven and then twelve, thirteen and don't forget fourteen. There were three deaths that year. He died when he was fifteen and sixteen and seventeen. After that, he didn't die for a while. He told him that his mother's protection was gone and if he died, he would stay dead.

He grew up and got a job. But Fate loved screwing with him. He got into an unfortunate accident involving the new time turners the Department of Mystery were testing. And so, he landed in the 51st century.

Try as he might, he couldn't find a way back. So he made a life there. Became a Time Agent. And then became a con-man. Then Fate finally gave him a chance. He met the Doctor.

The Doctor had a TARDIS, Time and Relative Dimensions in Space. It could travel in time. It was his ticket back home. So he traveled with him. He couldn't remember all his travels and all the things he's done but he remembers the Bad Wolf.

He died. He knew that. But he wasn't coming back. He knew that. So he died with the fact that he did well in his life.

At first he felt pain, but it slowly went away. And slowly, it got lighter. He was floating. He was peaceful. It was like that for what felt like a millennium and suddenly he was falling. Falling ever so fast, so fast, _so fast_. He wanted it to stop. It was scary, downright terrifying. He wanted the peaceful feeling again. He was still falling when he opened his eyes and gasped.

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><p>From then on, he couldn't die. Not ever. He tried everything to foreign rituals to being blasted by machine guns. But he always, <em>always, <em>came back. And to make matters worse, the Doctor left him. He felt betrayed. How could he do this to him? After all he did, the Doctor left him.

He spent a while in a pity party before he gathered his wits and tried to get back. Back where, you ask. Somewhere, anywhere, but here. And he did get away. He can't remember how he did it, but he did.

He made it back to Earth, but not his Earth. There was no magic on this Earth. So as usual, he tried to make due.

He joined Torchwood and established Torchwood 3 in Cardiff. He gathered his team and did his job while still trying to find the Doctor so he could get back to his old life. What was his old life again? He could only remember some parts. A flash of green and laughter. Friends, friends named Ron and Hermione. He wanted his life back so, _so bad._ It wasn't a coherent thought anymore, it was a _need._

His old life faded though, as all things did.

His team was amazing. Tosh, brilliant Tosh. The sarcastic Owen, headstrong Gwen. Ianto, oh Ianto. He really did love him. He never got to tell him. Ianto, he was amazing. His infamous one-liners, his delicious coffee, his beautiful face. But all good things had to end like they always did and he was left with no one.

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><p>The years are now a blur because he has lived for so long. Sometimes, he forgets his name. He can't remember the entirety of his life anymore. Who were his parents again? He knew that they were great. Did he have a dog as a child? A big, black one? Where did he go to school, again? It was that castle in Scotland, wasn't it? The one with the funny name he couldn't remember anymore. There was such thing as magic, wasn't there? He was magic, he was or is he still? He can't remember and it drives him crazy.<p>

He has been alive for a long, long time. Too long, suspiciously long. The people around him have forgotten his name. They gave him a title now. It was what he went by now.

He was old, so very old. He is deformed beyond belief, but he cannot die, will never die. His life is a joke now, a farce. He just wants peace, he wants it all to end.

He met the Doctor a few times like this. The Doctor didn't recognize him. He tried to aid him, help him in his travels. But the Doctor left as soon as his adventures here were over without the knowledge of who he really was.

This was it. This will be the last time he will ever see the Doctor. It is his time, he can feel it. But he has one last message for the Doctor.

"You Are Not Alone,"

He let go of his conscience and his mind and breathed his last. He was finally peaceful, at last.

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><p>Looking around himself, he saw that his body was young again. A doorway stood in front of him with his friends and family on the other side. For the last time, he crossed the threshold to be greeted by his parents. Hermione flew into his arms and Ron gave him a bright smile. Dumbledore looked at him with a twinkle in his eye. Sirius and Remus greeted him as well. His team was there too.<p>

Ianto gave him a smile, _here you are at last._

He gave him a smile back, _and I'm never leaving you again._


End file.
